[ action thread ]
Who: Amy + Open
What: Impromptu weapons-making?
Where: The courtyard in front of the library
When: Early afternoon
Warnings: TBA
Amy wasn't sure when she'd stopped trying to find other people and started hiding in the area that gave her (hopefully) the most opportunity to see anyone coming, but she was pretty sure it was around the time she'd had to find somewhere to sleep last night and had realized that she was the only one with no kind weapon so to speak.
Seriously, even Duane's book had those knobs and stuff. And it was hardcover. What was the line about hardcover books? . . .
He could probably incapacitate someone if he really tried. Meanwhile, her journal . . . had a face on it.
Sure, maybe the face would scare something--one--whatever--off. There was a reason she'd turned it cover down against the ground, though that was more due to the fact that she'd tucked it halfway under her leg when she'd sat down to make sure it didn't disappear. But she didn't really want to chance it.
But. Weird word-eating journals and unhelpful talking cats aside.
Amy had been trying to find a way to attach the twine she'd saved from her package to the two pens so that she could--if necessary, since garrote wire required her to be way, way more close to anything than she wanted to be at any point--at least have something. Sure, it would be useless if that guy with the gun ever showed up, but false hope was better than no hope, right?
A book is successful if, in its hardcover form, it's heavy enough to incapacitate a burglar. Yeah. Or something like that.
The problem was that no matter how she tied the twine, the caps of the pens kept coming off when she yanked.
This last time was starting to look promising, though. The caps had stayed on after the first yank--she'd tied the twine pretty much all around them to force them to stick. If she could just find another piece, maybe in the auditorium where they'd been (was the cat gone? the cat had freaked her out more after the fact), it might be long enough. . . .
She wrenched on the ends of the pens a second time, and the twine slid up, dragging the caps partly with it.
Should've seen that coming. Shouldn't have thought it might work until it was proven it did.
"God damn it!"
What: Impromptu weapons-making?
Where: The courtyard in front of the library
When: Early afternoon
Warnings: TBA
Amy wasn't sure when she'd stopped trying to find other people and started hiding in the area that gave her (hopefully) the most opportunity to see anyone coming, but she was pretty sure it was around the time she'd had to find somewhere to sleep last night and had realized that she was the only one with no kind weapon so to speak.
Seriously, even Duane's book had those knobs and stuff. And it was hardcover. What was the line about hardcover books? . . .
He could probably incapacitate someone if he really tried. Meanwhile, her journal . . . had a face on it.
Sure, maybe the face would scare something--one--whatever--off. There was a reason she'd turned it cover down against the ground, though that was more due to the fact that she'd tucked it halfway under her leg when she'd sat down to make sure it didn't disappear. But she didn't really want to chance it.
But. Weird word-eating journals and unhelpful talking cats aside.
Amy had been trying to find a way to attach the twine she'd saved from her package to the two pens so that she could--if necessary, since garrote wire required her to be way, way more close to anything than she wanted to be at any point--at least have something. Sure, it would be useless if that guy with the gun ever showed up, but false hope was better than no hope, right?
A book is successful if, in its hardcover form, it's heavy enough to incapacitate a burglar. Yeah. Or something like that.
The problem was that no matter how she tied the twine, the caps of the pens kept coming off when she yanked.
This last time was starting to look promising, though. The caps had stayed on after the first yank--she'd tied the twine pretty much all around them to force them to stick. If she could just find another piece, maybe in the auditorium where they'd been (was the cat gone? the cat had freaked her out more after the fact), it might be long enough. . . .
She wrenched on the ends of the pens a second time, and the twine slid up, dragging the caps partly with it.
Should've seen that coming. Shouldn't have thought it might work until it was proven it did.
"God damn it!"